


To Hogwarts!

by MissShadowBolt



Category: Doctor Who, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Age Regression/De-Aging, Crossover, De-Aged Doctor, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-03-26 09:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3846457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissShadowBolt/pseuds/MissShadowBolt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor has gotten himself into a bit of a mess, and now he's a kid again. Shortly after de-aging however, a mysterious owl brings him a letter. He's been accepted to Hogwarts! But why? The answers lie behind the mysterious walls of Hogwarts, follow the Doctor as he unravels the mysteries of the school, and tries to fix the mess he landed in. Adopted from Bibliomaniac, moved from my fanfiction account.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're a Wizard Jon Smith

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [De-Aged](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/112252) by The-Bibliomaniac. 



Disclaimer: Hello my lovely readers! Please note that I do not own Doctor Who or Harry Potter! (Trust me, you would all know about it if I did) Heck, I only half-own this storyline, but we're get to that in the authors note! I hope you all enjoy this! let's go!

It happened with no warning, what began as midnight stargazing on a seemingly quiet, yet beautiful planet had turned into a midnight mad dash away from a war zone.

The Doctor ran through the energized air, narrowly avoiding the brightly colored blasts fired from gunmen crouched in the shadows. He made it to the safety of his TARDIS with not a second to spare, skillfully unlocking the door and sliding inside. But as he went to shut the door, he was met with a nasty surprise. An energy blast caught him in the back, knocking him to the grated floor. He gasped and twisted to look out the threshold. Three masked figures, all clutching guns, were advancing on him. He had to leave now.

With effort he managed to kick the door close and stumble to his feet.

"Someplace safe." He spoke to himself, something he'd been doing a lot of since he had begun traveling alone. "England, twentieth century!" He decided, beginning to push buttons and flip switches, ignoring the electric pain that was shooting through him.

As the TARDIS dematerialized, the Doctor's entire body convulsed. When the spasm passed, the Doctor leaned heavily on the wall and reached for his back to assess the damage as best as possible. To his surprise, his back felt fine. A bit tingly and a bit achy, but lack of any blemish or blood. Odd. He pulled off his long coat and checked himself over. There was no damage at all.

As he was pondering what had happened, there was another convulsion, followed by a loud popping noise. The Doctor groaned and reached to rub his back. Only to find that he couldn't reach it. Like many people, the Doctor's first thought was one born of panic and did not quite fit. For an irrational moment, he convinced himself that the mini-seizure had torn all his muscles, or something to that effect. But he quickly discarded the idea, realizing it was rather silly.

He found himself squirming as he tried to move, was his suit too tight?

He reached up to start unbuttoning his coat. As he fumbled with the buttons, he chanced to glance at his hands. They were not his. Sure, they were attached to his arms, but they were much too big to be his. But why did they feel so familiar? He turned them over, frowning, trying to figure out what was happening. Then it struck him. They were not his hands now, but they used to be, exactly one regeneration ago.

Baffled, he reached up to his face and ran his too-big hands over his features. Balding head, big ears, considerably older...it was his last face, the one he had worn when he met Rose. Well that was weird, and rather troubling. He felt another spasm coming on. Before it could start, he was running out of the consol room, heading for his favorite lab.

"Some kind of de-aging gun," he muttered to himself. "It was in the Kastrovinian system, so that means…" he was cut off as the spasm hit, hard enough to throw him to the ground. There was another loud pop, and the Doctor pulled himself to his feet, ignoring how his now longer hair kept flopping in his face. "Okay, okay, think Doctor" He spoke to himself in a voice he hadn't heard in several centuries, "De-aging Rays...de-aging guns? Tool used by assassins. Effects persist until the target dies of youth, but both memories and personality are preserved until the brain is too immature to hold them," he finished dragging the information from his mind, wishing he had a companion to explain this all too, but settling for the shadows of his ship. He was a little bit relieved that he would not be changing his personality every time he changed his body.

There was another pop, and suddenly, his suit was ridiculously tight around the waste, and way too long in the arms and legs. At least the spasms seem to be going away, it would certainly make creating a treatment easier.

He reached the lab and started hastily mixing chemicals together, bent on creating an antidote to his situation. The process took a while, and he was already in his original body by the time it was done. The treatment was not pure, though. There was not enough time to let it distill, and the somewhat gross liquid wreaked of chemicals, but it was the best he could manage. He steeled himself before gulping the revolting medicine. But he didn't stop de-aging, he felt himself drop about a foot and began to really panic. What if the antidote didn't work? What if he was too late?

Nervous, he searched the lab for something reflective. He had to stand on a near-by bench and gaze down into a petri dish sitting up on a counter. The dish was filled with mercury and worked well as a make-shift mirror. He peered at himself and watched as years faded away from his face, and, much to his alarm, he continued to shrink in size.

"Come on, come on, work!" he pleaded with his reflection, and finally, the de-aging stopped. Hesitantly, the Doctor observed his new, or rather, very old, face . A Young child peered back at him from the mercury.

The child pursed his lips as the Doctor tried to figure out how old he was. "Eleven," he finally stated, "or there about." He carefully climbed down from the lab bench and set out calculating why he was not re-aging. Eventually, he concluded that it was due to the impurities of the treatment. Had he distilled it, he would have been back to normal already, shooting up in age the second the antidote hit his system.

"On the other hand," he was speaking to himself again, pacing the lonely lab in his too-big suit, a notepad clutched in his left hand and a pen quickly jotting calculations in his right, "I very likely would have died had I let the solution distill." He flinched at his voice it was almost girl-like and cracked when it raised in pitch. He cleared his throat and spoke lowly, "The antidote I consumed would become deadly quickly if I tried to drink a more pure version, the impurities will give it a sort of delayed effect, and an unpredictable one at that. Eventually it will take full effect, and I'll return to my normal age, but that won't occur for a year at least, maybe longer. Until then I'm stuck as a child." He hummed the words, very much wishing that he had someone there to hum them to.

He sighed and placed the scribbled on note pad on a lab bench, deciding to make his way to the consol room to consider his next move. There was no way he was going to sit in the TARDIS for a whole year by himself. But going on adventures like he usually did was out of the question. He was far too young to wander places alone, heck, he was even too short to operate the controls on the TARDIS. He was entertaining the idea of calling Sarah Jane to see if she'd be willing to take him in for an indeterminate amount of time when there was a scratching at the door.

The Doctor started, then gracefully walked across the control room to investigate. At least, that was the plan, but he had not changed out of his pinstripe suit, and he tripped on the long pant legs before tumbling to the floor. There was another scratch at the door, and with a growl of frustration, the Doctor hitched up his pants and marched ahead to answer it.

There was a large owl, in broad daylight sitting in front of the TARDIS, proffering him a letter.

The Doctor stepped back, his eyes glued to the bird, his mouth hanging open in surprise. "What?" He stuttered.

The bird let out an annoyed sound and dropped the letter at the baffled boy's feet. Hesitantly, the boy made a careful move to grab the letter, his eyes never leaving the animal. Once in his hands, he spared a glance down at the address printed on the envelope.

Mr. J. Smith

Consol Room

TARDIS

London

"What?" He asked again, a childish sort of curiosity distracting him from the bird. He slit the envelope open and pulled out the letter it read:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Smith,

We are please to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress.

"What?" He asked again, the bird flew off with no further explanation, and this left the young Doctor alone and confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoo! First chapter formatted! I hope you all enjoyed.
> 
> Now, on to the technical stuff! I actually didn't write most of this chapter. I added a lot to it, yes, but the idea and most of the text itself was dreamt by my good friend The Bibliomaniac (That's her name over on fanfiction, not sure if she's on this site or not.) You see, The Bibliomaniac wrote two versions of the amazing fic "De-Aged" (which I highly recommend), but quickly decided against one version and put it up for adoption. I adopted it. The next chapter will be written the same way, with more of the Bibliomaniac's words than my own. But come chapter three, I assure you, the rest of the story will be completely written by me.
> 
> So I hope that you stick with me on this! Also, thank you to the Bibliomaniac for letting me adopt this fic!
> 
> With love, MissShadowBolt


	2. A Trip to the Wizarding World (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was super long, so I divided it into 2 parts! Hope you enjoy!

Of course the Doctor knew about the human wizarding world. He did not know a lot though, because, quite frankly, he had gotten fed up with the whole society by the 1800's when it was clear they were not superior to the muggles any more, yet continued to remain willfully ignorant of the fact.

Attending one of the wizarding schools could get a bit irking, especially in the early twentieth century when pure blood superiority was still largely accepted, and then there was the whole Voldemort business he had read on, lots of fighting and fixed points in time around this century, which would give him a major headache when the inevitable happened and he got himself involved. Then there's the fact that he would be actually bound to one place for an entire year, something, he has found, always got painfully boring, no matter how exciting the future promised to be. And having to do homework...well, he hated it growing up, he couldn't imagine such monotonous busy work would get any better with age.

However, he was never one to turn down a chance to learn new things, and going to a boarding school would give him a place to stay until he re-aged. Plus any homework, (or was it dorm work?) including a magic wand couldn't be all that bad...and maybe fighting some dark magic would actually be fun.

As he wandered away from the door, he decided to look at the two other slips of paper stashed in the envelope. There was an acceptance slip, stating that he would in fact be attending classes. He had a three day deadline to turn it in. Then there was a school supply list. He found himself pulling out the list and began to walk for the jump seat as he read, but he was quickly interrupted when he once again tripped over his ridiculously long pants. For the third time that day he became acquainted with the grated floor.

This wouldn't do, he would have to change clothes before proceeding. He knew he had kids clothes somewhere.

A short while later, the Doctor emerged from the wardrobe room. He wore jeans, a button down shirt, a tie, and a vest. It was not quite what he was used to, but he felt that it was close enough to count (he was not sure why he felt the urge to dress the same way as he did as an adult, but the thought of anything less formal was fairly repulsive. The jeans were bad enough…).

Now that he was wearing clothes he could actually walk in, he headed for the counsel room again. As he entered he swept the school letter off the jump seat where he had left it and scanned through the rest. The book list was the first thing that caught his eye. And frankly it convinced him that a trip to Hogwarts would indeed be in order. Wizards may be somewhat cut off from muggles and science alike, but they did have a completely new library of information to discover.

With a decision made he next went to the room he had mentally dubbed 'the Bank'. It was a small room, way out of the way. He rarely came here. It was actually right next to the cloister bell room and squash court number four. Inside, there was an odd contraption a queen had given him after he had saved her planet. He had long ago stopped trying to figure out how it worked. It just did.

He dialed in a decent amount of money, set the machine for 'British Galleon' and waited. There was a soft wheezing sound, similar to the kind the TARDIS made when materializing, and then a ding. The Doctor strolled over to the small flap on the side and lifted it up. Several galleons, sickles, and knuts dropped into the small sack he had waiting underneath. Once upon a time, he had actually taken the money the machine had delivered to him to an official to see if it was legitimate money, or just a really good forgery. It was legit, and the Doctor had no idea where it came from.

The last stop he made was to a supplies cabinet. After a bit of searching, the Doctor found a smallish trunk (bigger on the inside, of course), a school bag (same deal), and a few other knickknacks that he felt would be useful to have.

Armed with money and supplies, the Doctor headed back to the console room. First things first, he altered his sonic screwdriver. He knew it would be glitchy in the wizarding world otherwise, and he did not want to lose another one (not that he thought it would be very useful at the school, but he would be sad to leave it behind). He then turned to the scanner.

He knew there was a wizarding center of commerce somewhere in London; he just never had a need to go there. The scanner provided the location and the name of the inn that acted as the entrance. "The Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley," the Doctor read out loud, and snorted at the pun.

He then looked up the location for Hogwarts. Some place in Scotland. The scanner was very vague, and with a little prodding, the Doctor was informed the location was unplottable. He rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. He pressed a few more buttons and was informed that the TARDIS did know where the school was, despite the lack of plotability. Strange, the coordinates seemed to be manually imputed. And he hadn't put them there. Someone really wanted him at this school then...he would have to investigate that.

He carefully programmed the TARDIS to arrive just outside the magic field around the school on September 3rd, and exited the ship. He was uneasy about having the TARDIS unavailable for a few days, but he was more worried that the amount of magic surrounding Diagon Alley would hurt her, and he figured a small child coming and going out of the Leaky Cauldron to visit a police box would eventually attract attention, perception filter be damned. He would just have to stay in the inn until school started, and then get a taxi or something to King's Cross when the time came.

After watching the TARDIS fade away without him, the Doctor sighed and turned away, dragging his trunk behind him. It would be a long few days without his beloved ship to tinker around in. The weather was cloudy and the people on the streets weren't exactly in the best mood, making the whole walk to the inn rather gloomy.

After some walking in the drizzly streets of London, the Doctor found himself standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron, inspecting the field covering it. It was like an off-brand perception filter or a Somebody-Else's-Problem field. The mechanics of it were certainly fascinating, but he felt the very existence of the field was a little bit paranoid: not many people randomly decided to enter a little, unknown, slightly squalid looking inn in the middle of London. Even if someone did stop in for a drink, they would still need to find the entrance to Diagon Alley to get anywhere close to the wizarding shops behind. Honestly, why even try to hide it? The place would probably make more money if they sold drinks to muggles anyway.

He finished his analysis of the field and entered the inn. There were very few people actually in the bar-like room. There was a lull in the quiet conversations as the scattering of people turned to regard him suspiciously. When it was noted he was only a young boy (Ha! Little did they know!), the conversations restarted.

The Doctor frowned. The TARDIS had been unclear about where the entrance to Diagon Alley actually was, and she had not been able to provide a method to actually get in, though there was an indication that the entrance was hidden. He briefly considered pulling out his sonic screwdriver to scan the place, but people were still glancing at him occasionally, and he wanted as little attention as possible (for once). He chose instead to approach the barkeep.

"Excuse me," he said, the picture of politeness, "I'd like to rent a room?"

The hunchbacked barkeep peered over the bar at him. "How long for?"

"Till September 1st."

"You a Hogwarts student?"

"Soon," the Doctor grinned.

The barkeep smiled back. "Good lad. Is it just you, or are your parents outside still?"

"Just me," said the Doctor, hoping the man would not ask for further details.

The barkeep frowned slightly, then stepped around the bar to heft up the Doctor's trunk and gestured for the Doctor to follow him as he made his way to a room. "I'm surprised you're on your own. It's not safe for a child to be alone these days, what with Sirius Black out."

The Doctor blinked. "I'm sorry," he started hesitantly, "I've very little connection with the magic world. Who's Sirius Black?"

"The mass murderer? He escaped prison just a few days ago. You'd best not be wandering around much."

"Oh." the Doctor was sure the man meant well, but he was not exactly frightened by the concept of an escaped murderer. Concerned, yes, but he had dealt with much worse than that. Still, playing along never hurt anyone. "Will I be safe in Diagon Alley? I need to buy my school supplies. I was actually hoping you could show me how to get there."

The man shrugged. "I suppose you'll be safe enough as long as you don't go wandering down any dark alleys," he said. By this point, they had reached a rather homey looking room. "Do you want to enter Diagon now, or would you like to settle in first?"

"Oh, now would be preferable," answered the Doctor. Aside from reading the newspaper he saw downstairs, and possibly figuring out how the pictures moved, he could not see anything else to do in the inn. As they left the room, the Doctor snagged a small backpack from his stuff.


	3. A Trip to the Wizarding World (Part 2)

"This is the brick you need to tap," said the barkeep after leading the doctor to an ordinary brick wall, "When you get a wand, just put the tip up against this one, and the alley will open for you." He put action to his words and opened the alley for the Doctor.

"Thanks," said the Doctor and strolled into Diagon Alley, waving casually behind him at the barkeep. He glanced around. At least the place was interesting. Lots of random things, people oddly dressed, unique items. It kind of looked a bit like some of the lower storage rooms of the TARDIS.

People bustled about giving off a sort of air of excitement, and the Doctor found himself grinning with a spring in his step as he explored the streets. He briefly considered stopping at the ice cream shop, or maybe the broom shop, or maybe even a small, new looking toy shop crouched in a corner. But the adult side of his brain quickly reminded him that he was here for a purpose, and, pouting some, the Doctor took out his supply list.

He checked the list and pursed his lips in thought. Of course getting books first was the most fun idea, but he knew if he entered a bookstore, he was unlikely to leave until they kicked him out at closing hours. He would have to get the other stuff out of the way first then. Unable to make up his mind, he decided to wander around a bit and see which store he came across. To his displeasure, the first store selling Hogwarts supplies was a dress shop. Ew, a uniform. How… normal. Sneering a little, he let himself into the shop. It did not hurt to own the uniforms, but did not mean he HAD to wear them. Ha, he would show the system.

"Hello, deary, here for Hogwarts robes?" asked a cheery lady. The Doctor hummed in assent. (He was still a bit miffed he needed a uniform at all) "Right, I can take you now. Up on the platform please?" The Doctor jumped up on the platform.

Madam Malkin, as he learned her name was, was as efficient as she was pleasant conversation. Less than half an hour later, the Doctor was departing her shop with several new robes. To his delight, she had taken his style into account and managed to alter the uniform slightly so that it better fit his preferences.

Next up was the apothecary and, next-door, general wizarding supplies. In the supply shop, he picked up a decent (for the time period) telescope, cauldron, scales, and other 'fun' things (he rolled his eyes; if the list did not want standard stuff, he had much higher quality stuff back in the TARDIS.). He then went into the apothecary.

Looking at his list, he had to laugh. So much stuff was redundant or impure. He bought the list, but then supplemented it with better things, like pure chemicals (he had to argue strenuously with the shopkeeper in order to get 5 molar sulfuric acid; yes, it WAS necessary!). He had to fight some with the merchant to convince him that he could easily handle some of the more dangerous ingredients, but had won the debate with little effort, evoking the power of money to win. By the end of that he was practically giggling, ecstatic that he had won his debate with the potions merchant.

But it was with much trepidation that the Doctor approached Ollivander's Wand Shop. Did he really need a wand? Wouldn't the sonic screwdriver work? At that thought, he snorted. Of course it wouldn't. The screwdriver was many things, but magic was not one of them. Really, he was being a bit ridiculous in thought today. It must be because of his recent de-aging, younger brain met younger emotions. He just hoped that it wouldn't start to bleed through in his actions.

He stopped at the door to the wand shop to close his eyes for a second, wondering for the first time since the incident just how badly his mind was affected by the change. He only met to look inward and peak around for a second, but was shocked at what he found.

His mind was a complete mess! Thoughts were scattered everywhere! Past, present, and future events were whirling around in a messy storm. Every mental barrier he had ever made was hanging from a thread. His brain at eleven was insanely young and unrefined, not equipped enough to handle the swirling emotions and memories of an adult who had lived for a thousand years, and certainly not equipped enough to handle the fully realized powers of the time vortex! What's more, the part of his mind which controlled his natural emphatic and hypnotic and psychic powers was hardly controlled, and close to failing, as when he was eleven he didn't even somewhat have a grasp on any of those things, nor was he mentally prepared to deal with them.

Now with his focus on it, he could feel the emotion of every passerby, and it was beginning to make him dizzy. The most prominent of emotions leaking through his mind was a sort of fear...concern? It was puzzlingly hard to tell.

"Hello," and aged voice broke his concentration, "are you alright?"

The Doctor snapped awake. He was leaning on the wall outside the wand shop and he could feel a faint line of sweat on his face, undoubtedly from sinking deeper than he had met to into his mind, another thing that was harder to control now.

He found himself looking into to concerned eyes of a wizard, who was peaking at him from behind the open door to the wand shop. Undoubtedly the owner, Ollivander.

The Doctor put on his infamous 'I'm always all right' smile and said, "Oh, I'm fine thank you. I've come to buy a wand is all." He grinned, deciding that he needed to buy the wand quickly and get back to the inn so he could spend the night putting his head back together.

The man cocked an eyebrow, but nodded and urged the Doctor inside.

"It's not every day I find a customer sleeping outside my shop window, are you sure you're alright?" The man asked.

The Doctor, who's acting skills thankfully weren't hindered in the change, scoffed. "Absolutely! So, wands, you're the expert, what should I look for?"

The distraction seemed to work, the Merchant grinned, and thus the process of finding a wand for the Doctor began. He just hoped he'd be able to use one in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Extra long chapter finished! The next chapter will be a blast, so stick around! (The last four hundred words or so we're of my own design, just so you know.) I hope you all enjoyed! Leave a comment if you can, and have a great day!


	4. Buying a Wand

The Doctor found himself scanning the room as he stepped into the wand shop. The place looked safe enough, sort of dark, warm, and enchanting like something out of a children's fairy tale. The walls were lined with what the Doctor could only assume to be wand boxes, and he had to restrain himself from opening them up and peering inside.

"Alright, alright," the wand merchant said with an air of excitement "what's your name?" He asked it over his shoulder, as he he was scanning the various shelves intently, no doubt judging which wand would be best for the Doctor.

"John Smith." The Doctor responded after a moment of pause, reminding himself to use his false name.

Ollivander nodded, "and your wand hand?"

"Well," the Doctor said, "I can use either hand, but my right I suppose." He had taken to observing the boxes infinity curious as to how the objects inside worked.

The wand merchant searched for a minute, then finally said "Right, let's see then, try this one." He grabbed a box from a shelf behind his counter and ushered the Doctor over.

"Blackthorn, dragon heartstring core, eight and a quarter inches, rather springy." The man informed as the Doctor sauntered over to the counter. The merchant handed over the actually quite beautiful wand, and the Doctor took it, merely studying it at first, taking note of the ornate carvings. He felt a sort of subtle psychic power radiating off the thing, the wand itself wasn't the source but it was definitely channeling it, although the power felt a bit choked and the wand seemed to lean away from the Doctor. And maybe it was him just him being paranoid, or perhaps some sort of left over energy he felt due to his weakening empathy shields, but the wand seemed to dislike him. Strange, he would have to do some research on the possibility of wands being sentient.

"Well, give it a wave." Ollivander said eagerly.

The Doctor did so, moving the wand in an elegant sweep. There was a loud popping sound like the the firing of a gun and he cringed as the wand seemed to backlash, he felt it jump from his hand as several boxes in the back of the room came crashing to the floor. As the wand went airborne the Doctor had to scramble to catch it, holding it out gingerly to the wand salesman when he did.

"Sorry," he said, a bit frazzled and worried that the merchant would be angry with him for the mess he had caused.

"No, no, don't worry my boy, these things happen." Ollivander assured, "dragon heartstring, definitely won't do!" He took the wand from the Doctors outstretched hand and went back to searching.

The Doctor thought on this and came to the conclusion that the fact that a wand worked for him at all met that he was skilled at magic. Maybe not good at it, he found himself thinking, as he observed the boxes which were still lying about behind the counter,but able to channel it certainly.

As to why he could, well there was any number of theories, maybe it was due to his high psychic skills? (or, now that he was young again it was more potential than skill.) Or maybe magic itself was a sort of energy force that only those who were sensitive to it-witches and wizards-could tap into, and he had never noticed it due to the energy's subtle, or hard to use nature. Or possibly he had never noticed it due to his own psychic shields which were made to block out such things. Or maybe-

"Ah ha!," the Doctor was pulled from his musings when Ollivander went over to him with yet another wand, "let's try this one. Pear tree wood, unicorn hair core, eight and a half inches, rather unflexible. Give it a try!" He handed it over.

This wand didn't seem to detest the Doctor as much as the other had, but still it didn't feel utterly content in his hand. It tolerated the time lord, but more or less ignored him. Rather rude.

He waved it, but little happened.

The Doctor raised his brow, frowning slightly. "I don't think this one likes me much." He stated.

"Hmm," Ollivander smiled, "Very observant mister Smith," he sounded approving "The wand's not quite a match." Then he snapped his fingers, "I think I know!"

Ollivander took the wand back and went for another one. The Doctor soon found himself going through many wands, given a brief description of each before having it put in his hand and taken back out. Some jumped from his grasp, others caused rather angry gusts of winds, or outbursts of annoyance that resulted in toppled boxes, and some did nothing whatsoever. But whatever Ollivander was looking for telling him that the wand was a match, he never seemed to find it.

It was almost a half hour later before the wand merchant approached the Doctor with a new wand, unlike with all the others, he seemed to be worried about this one. His eyes were sad as he took it from the box and showed it to the Doctor.

"This is a hawthorn wand. Phoenix feather core and exactly nine inches, rather springy." He handed it over and watched the Doctor with an air of concern.

The Doctor took the wand and felt fully the power of it. It liked him, what more it had an interesting hard to figure out emotion attached to it, a puzzle that he would have to solve with time. The Doctor waved the wand and the tip of it glowed faintly. He felt a sort of comforting warmth spread through his fingers almost like the wand was claiming him as a friend. It somehow calmed his nerves.

Ollivander nodded, "I believe mister Smith, you have found yourself a wand. Hawthorn wands are tricky mind you, talent is needed to control them, and I find as a general rule that only the most complex and intriguing wizards are suited to them, as the wand itself has a conflicted nature. The wand is particularly good with healing magic, but are also adept to curses if that is where the owner finds himself. Travel through life carefully Mister Smith, it could be full of light and healing, but be wary of turmoil and sadness which could see you down darker paths."

The Doctor nodded, feeling almost chocked at the description. He could certainly feel the healing effects of the wand in a moment where he needed it, as his mind was still out of place, a swirling mess that was, well undoubtedly interesting and complex, also very dark. "Thank you." He said, his childish voice breaking the almost chilling moment of silence that had fallen, "How much do I owe you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo Hoo, third chapter done! The next chapter will be a fun breath of fresh air, a calm before the oncoming storm if you will. I'll introduce a very important character to the story, and let the Doctor breath before the train ride. (I remind you, the Doctor is emphatic, and we're going through the 3rd Harry Potter book.) Thank you for reading this far, and I'm sorry if I messed up with something, I just got this account like an hour ago. Still figuring things out. Leave a comment and tell me how good/bad this was. I honestly would like some criticism if you have any, and I swear I won't get upset. Hope to hear from you all!


	5. Rainy Day Day Dream (Or, The Calm Before the Storm)

The rain had picked up by the time the Doctor left Ollivander's, and the now rampant drizzle made the once busy streets deserted. And besides the occasional witch or wizard with a rain shield charm above their heads (honestly, umbrellas did exist) the Doctor was alone.

He never much liked being alone, and found himself musing on the possibility of making school friends in the coming year.

He had seen some other kids around alley, mostly buying school supplies with their parents and unwilling, or unable, to talk to him. But maybe he could introduce himself and get an early start on the whole 'making friends' thing.

As he was thinking, he bumped into someone, sending himself and the unknown sprawling into the rain-filled street.

"S-sorry" he muttered, now sitting in a puddle as rain fell around him, making his clothes stick to his body.

"Oh, it's quite alright." A dreamy voice said through the sound of the rain. The Doctor was soon looking up at the girl he had knocked to the ground, she had stood, and was reaching out a hand to help the Doctor to his feet, "I was lost in thought. You were too I see." She observed.

"Um, yes." The Doctor stuttered, accepting her hand and standing up. It was somewhat dark, but in the flickering light of the street lanterns, he was able to get a good look at the girl. Her hair was faded blonde and she was wearing no rain coat, or boots, or anything to protect her from the weather at all. Her eyes were large and bright, and she also looked strangely soft, and spoke with a softness to match, like an image from a dream. "How could you tell?" He asked her.

"You have that look about you." She said simply. Her large eyes looked very distant yet in the present like she was seeing the world around her, but something else too. The Doctor imagined he himself looked like that to people when he was in thought.

"Oh, well, thank you for the help," He offered, getting only a smile in response, but the smile was sad like she knew something that troubled her. He decided to speak again, "why are you out in the rain? Shouldn't you be wearing a coat?" He asked.

The girl said, "not now, no, rain is good for the mind. It wakes people up and opens new thoughts that one would never dream of having on a sunny day."

The Doctor nodded, "That's very insightful." He said, "well then, I'm John Smith, what's your name?" He reached out his hand.

"Luna Lovegood." She said, shaking his hand lightly, "Your name isn't really John Smith. Or at least, it's not the title you prefer." Her words were not a question.

The Doctor blinked. "Um, no, but it's what I would like to go by." The girl only hummed in response, and the Doctor bit his lip, "but you can call me the Doctor if you would like, I think I'd prefer it."

At this Luna nodded, "it's nice to meet you Doctor. You look very rained on, and not too happy about it. I was just going to buy my school books, if you would like to come along."

The Doctor thought about this, he did need to make some friends, and the girl seemed to be a Hogwarts student, and a rather interesting one at that. He had all night to meditate, so just a bit more exploring couldn't hurt. "Sure." He decided. "But I warn you, I'm sort of a bookworm. I may be there for awhile."

Luna nodded "I could tell." She informed, before leading him away.

The two talked quietly as they walked in the rain, "so, you go to Hogwarts?" The Doctor asked, "I'm starting this year, what's it like?"

"It's very full of nargles, however, the amount of them heightens at Christmas." Luna said, her voice a hum, the Doctor noted the way the girl walked, almost like she was dancing with only the constant fall of the rain as her music.

"Nargles?" He asked at the unfamiliar word.

"Oh yes," Luna said calmly, the little smile never leaving her face "little trickster things, like fairies almost. They steal people's shoes and cause a lot of trouble. They live in mistletoe you know."

The Doctor felt he should be taking notes, but wasn't fully sure he believed her. "I see..." He trailed, "what else?"

"Well, I believe that there are tinsel mice in the defense against the dark arts classroom, they feed off misfortune. But despite their food choice, they are quite sweet in nature. There's been a recent article on them in the Quibbler."

The Doctor pursed his lips. "Is that a magazine?" He asked.

Luna only nodded, "I can get you a subscription if you'd like to know more. My father writes it, and I myself do occasional articles."

"I'll think about that." The Doctor agreed, intrigued by the idea.

It was then that the pair entered a warm bookshop, the Doctor, normally, would have grinned at the new place full of information, but he was too busy staring at a bin of books that seemed to be snapping and growling. The books were labeled simply 'the Monster book of Monsters'

"Hogwarts students?" A rather tired looking shop keeper asked.

The Doctor was still staring at the snapping books and Luna answered for him, "Yes." She said.

"Don't tell me you'll be needing one of those?" The shop keeper sighed, pointing at the vicious books and going for a pair of gloves.

"Oh, I will, yes," Luna said with a smile, she walked up to the books with the Doctor in tow, who only managed to stare at the things. He was considering whether or not he'd be able to sonic them without the notice of the book keeper, when Luna said, "I would like that one." She pointed to a particularly nasty looking book with a suspicious page hanging from its mouth, "I think I'll name it Harry." She informed.

The shop keeper raised his brow, but went for the monster book anyway. The Doctor considered buying one himself, even though it wasn't on the list, but decided that if he really wanted to examine the book, he could just borrow one.

Minutes later, he, Luna, and 'Harry the Monster book of Monsters' were browsing through the shop. The Doctor couldn't help but marvel at the dream-like girl as she pet and cooed at the once evil book as if it were no more then a simple house cat. And, somewhat disturbingly, the book was purring.

They stayed at the store for near two hours, and by the end of it, the Doctor had found all the books on the list, plus quite a few extra that Luna had insisted on. Including: 'The Mythical Magicals, Creatures that May or May not Exist', 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard', and a subscription to 'The Quibbler' which they were selling at the front desk.

He had also picked up quite a bit extra regarding magic theory, wand manufacture, and some higher level spell books.

Luna never questioned The Doctor on his high-level decisions, something he was thankful for, and Luna had even explained to the Doctor how to take the train from Kings Cross to the school.

He was rather sad when Luna's dad showed up at the store to pick her up. The eccentric looking man walked into the store and smiled at his daughter. She and the Doctor were finished shopping and sitting on a cushy looking couch with their noses in their books, occasionally talking back and forth about their own stories. 'Harry the Monster Book of Monsters' had claimed his spot cuddled up to the Doctor, lying on the time lords leg and snoring slightly in its sleep.

"Luna, darling," the voice made the two look up at the smiling man, "have you done your shopping? We need to go home."

Luna nodded, "coming father." She made sure she had her books, including her monster one, before standing, "I'll see you on the train Doctor." She said to him.

"Absolutely." The Doctor agreed, "save me a spot!"

"Of course." Luna said before following her father out the door of the shop.

The Doctor sighed and watched as Luna walked away. And then, with a new friend made, and the task of sorting through his now young mind in front of him, the Doctor made his own way back to the inn. He was happy when he walked outside and realized that it had stopped raining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to a friend of mine, who died right before I wrote this. Give someone you know a hug today, okay? Just because you can.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Leave a comment if you want.
> 
> With love, MissShadowBolt


	6. On The Way to School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's another 2-parter, but I decided to post the whole thing on one chapter page. I am so sorry for the ending.

Part 1:

Sunlight was the Doctor's current adversary, and as of now it was winning a battle against the time lord. The Daleks would be jealous.

The Doctor's room at the inn was quite cozy, the bed was a little bigger than standard queen size and the firmness of the mattress was enchanted to adjust to the liking of the occupant. But sadly, the curtains had a spell on them as well, they opened wide the second morning light hit them, but only if the occupant of the room knew that they had to be up.

The Doctor, much to his annoyance, knew such things to be true. He just didn't want to get out of bed. The night before he had stayed up far too late meditating, okay, no, he started to meditate, but his young mind had ditched that responsibility and he had spent hours reading his new books. It was only when he went to the bar for water and found it closed did he realize the time. And even after that he found himself insisting on just one more book to read. He didn't even remember when he finally passed out. Two AM? Three? Something like that, it was before the sun came up.

Now, normally, staying up all night wouldn't had been a problem. But the Doctor's tolerance for such things had come with aging, and now that he was young...he didn't so much possess that night owl quality. Young time lords had to get at least five hours of sleep to function. Before last night, which was the end of his second day at the inn, he had accumulated maybe four total hours of sleep in a forty eight hour time frame.

But today was September first, the dawn of his third and final day at the inn, and he had been in bed for eight hours at least, and completely content to go for the ninth.

"Mister Smith!" There was a rapping at the door and the Doctor just piled more blankets on top of himself, refusing to acknowledge the pestering adult outside. "Room cleaning!"

The Doctor couldn't remember if he had put the 'do not disturb' sign on the knob, but he quickly found out that he had neglected to when the door opened with a creak. He didn't look up, he just buried himself further into the covers.

He heard the sound of footsteps, then heard the woman, who he supposed was the maid, speak. "This is the last day you have booked," The woman informed with a sing song morning person voice, as she set to work polishing the windows, "You should be up and getting ready to go to school, my own child is starting at Hogwarts as well and she's already on her way to King's Cross. I could send the bellhop to help with your bags."

"No thanks." The Doctor murmured, glaring as he brought himself away from the bed. He could tell that the lady was here to wake him, and she probably wouldn't leave until she succeeded.

In a sleepy daze he slunk off the bed, only to meet the floor in a 'thump' that was muffled by the blankets that fell around him. Oh, right, he was short now wasn't he? He had misjudged the height of the mattress from the floor. He groaned and struggled out of the blankets.

"Are you quite alright?" The maid asked, offering a hand to help the young Doctor stand.

"Ya," He said, his face flushing from embarrassment as the maid hoisted him off the floor, "just not used to my height." He perched himself up on the bed and took in how massive the thing was, and how resentfully small he felt in comparison.

"Ah, growth spurts can be tough." The woman laughed, going back to washing the windows with a cleaning solution that smelled of lemons.

The Doctor didn't comment, "can you leave me alone to get ready?" He asked finally.

"Sure, sure," The woman said, walking out of the room with no trouble and making it clear that she only came in there in the first place to wake him up, "The train leaves in four hours, you should be ready to leave before then." She informed.

The Doctor nodded, "Thanks." He said. When the door closed, he yawned and stretched. He was wearing long pajama pants that had little rocket ships printed on them along with a blue tee-shirt. He had bought the outfit at the second hand clothes shop nearby, and they fit him quite nicely.

The sun was still bright in his face and he squinted against it well considering his next move.

He began the day by going over a mental check list. Firstly, he checked his psychic shields. They weren't nearly as sophisticated as his previous shields, really they mere walls that blocked off things that would hinder him in this state.

He had shielded off his empathic powers, most knowledge concerning possible time lines that didn't, but still could happen, as well as most of the knowledge of future events and the ability to sense fixed points in time.

He had highly considered blocking off some more traumatizing memories too, especially after waking up on the first night with a nightmare. But instead he had just chosen to let them float about with the rest of his past. If the nightmares got too bad, he would have to do something about them. But for now they were fine.

Of course, none of what he blocked off was actually gone. It was all simply hidden away from his young self. The shields were somewhat flimsy, but they did their job of making it easy for him to think and live without being overtaken by headaches, rouge glimpses of a future that may or may not happen, the raw emotions of everyone around him, and the sick feeling that fixed points in time seemed to ooze. So his shields were fine.

Next thing on his check list was to pack. He looked around his room seeing the many books he had acquired in the three days of his stay. He had went to the bookstore and noted that they had backup copies of required reading materials for all of the grades in Hogwarts.

The Doctor, being the always learning mad man he was, had went down the lists and bought seven years worth of material to read, and even some texts for adults who continued their studies outside of school. The shopkeeper's jaw had dropped when an eleven year old boy in muggle clothes appeared at the counter with several piles of books, but other than that nobody had protested the lime lord's choices.

The books were everywhere, some were stacked with the rest of his luggage and a few more were placed on the night stand, and the vast majority sat atop a desk in the corner, completely taking over the tabletop. He needed a way to get the books all packed quickly. He thought he had read something on this...oh right!

The Doctor dragged his trunk into the middle of the room and opened it up. It was about as big as a walk in closet on the inside, and it would easily hold all of his things. He took a breath next and grabbed his wand, which he had left on the nightstand as well.

"Okay, charms…" He muttered, bringing the spell he wanted to do to his mind.

He stood over the school chest and held out his wand, making a complex motion and saying a strange nonsense word that almost rhymed with 'ham sandwich' then followed up the spell by saying "Books!"

The books in question rose from their respective places and arranged themselves in a neat pile inside the chest. He had learned that spell from a book called 'Practical Household Charms, a beginner's guide.'

The Doctor felt quite proud that he had managed the spell, but also a bit woozy. Maybe such a high level spell was a mistake.

But, cleaning up the books was only half the job. He still had to pack up the rest of his stuff, although, that could wait. The tired woozy feeling reminded him of the third item on his list; food.

The Doctor soon found himself sitting at a table in the bar, looking down at a steaming plate of biscuits and gravy. He ate at the delightful dish, realizing that he hadn't eaten much since he had arrived, and, actually, not much in the weeks before. It was kind of embarrassing, but he normally had to be told by his companions to eat.

Rose, in particular, would get annoyed with him if he neglected food for too long.

The thought of his old friend made him sad. He made it a point to sip at some water too, taking note of the fact that he couldn't do so much as eat without thinking about the past.

Maybe the current distracting humdrum of the news could get his mind off her before he began to spiral.

He grabbed a newspaper off the table top and studied the picture on it. It was, yet again, an article on that bloke Sirius Black. An update story warning that he was still at large.

As The Doctor read, a sudden pain made him flinch and hold his head. Words began to flood his mind, 'Sirius Black...related to at least two fixed points in time...inno-'

"Stop." The Doctor hissed, pushing away the paper and trying to stifle the sudden out pour of future knowledge. Mentally he strengthened his shields. This was a problem. This time period was monumental in wizarding history, it was riddled with fixed points!

The Doctor took a breath and continued to eat, ignoring the sparring glances of worried adults in the bar. He knew they were worried because he could feel the emotion roll off them. Maybe this would be tougher than he thought.

Part Two

Thee PM and the Doctor found himself walking down the busy train station. He had finished packing and had caught the knight bus to Kings Cross.

His trunk behind him was much lighter than the look of it would suggest. He himself hadn't the magical reserves to cast a feather-light charm, but he knew of it and had asked an employee at the inn to cast one for him. Now the only thing that reminded him that he was carrying the massive thing was the handle that was clutched in his hand. He made it a point to look back a few times to be sure he was actually holding the trunk. It was a bit like trying to carry a shadow, and the lack of weight felt off.

He saw a few other witches and wizards milling about in the sea of muggles. Some wore robes (Like the Doctor was at the moment) and others wore more sensible clothes to blend in. The sensibility of the clothes didn't matter much though, as the students still stuck out what with their large trunks and strange pets.

When the Doctor got to the barrier between platforms nine and ten, and steeled himself as he ran through it, trusting Luna's word that he would go right through. He shut his eyes tight, and half suspected an impact. But upon opening his eyes he found himself in a new platform, looking at a massive red engine.

The entire platform was flooded by several wizarding children and worried parents who were fawning over them. The Doctor heard one lady cry to her son as he walked off with a crowd of friends: "Don't forget to write! See you on the holidays!"

Another parent yelled "Take care of the cat! And get information on parents night!"

And there were many who said things like, "Good bye!" And "I'll miss you!"

The parents would watch until their kids disappeared into the train, then some would give a sad smile and group up with other parents, who also looked sad. The group would talk some before disappearing and dispersing into the mess of cloaked kids and babbled goodbyes.

The Doctor had since strengthened his shields, but still the emotion of the place was getting to him. Excitement, nervousness, nostalgia, sadness, the happiness of reunion. It was almost too much, he didn't even know what his own feelings were.

He made his way to the train, occupying himself with the thought of a flood of parents materializing from a wall lack of the children they once walked with. How would you explain that to the police? Maybe they left one at a time to avoid suspicion, but, from what the Doctor had seen of wizards, he highly doubted their subtleness skills.

"Doctor," The dreamy voice cut through his thoughts, "how have you been?"

The Doctor, nearly on the train, turned on his heel to see Luna! She smiled at him and the two began to talk back and forth as they walked to find a compartment.

They seated themselves in one of the only empty compartments and waited for the train to start moving, talking all the while.

Note, speaking with Luna is a bit like using nothing but a floatie for a boat on wild rapids. You just sort of had to hold on and let the conversation flow, if you tried to make the rapids go in one direction or if you stopped yourself on a subject for too long, the water would pull you under.

Now, the same can be said about talking with the Doctor. However, he had learned that most people dislike a winding stream of thought, and had long taught himself to talk with a more linear way of reasoning. Luna had no such reserves, and the Doctor adored her for that.

It began easy enough, with the Doctor telling Luna that he had sent the confirmation slip to Hogwarts using one on the owlery's public messenger owls. Then the subjects changed.

The list of subjects is long and extensive, twisting and turning at the slightest of bends.

Owls, bunnies, patronuses, charms, school work, the broken system, muggle school systems, muggle tv, muggle journalism, fairy tales, fairies as they are vs. what they're portrayed as, Robin Hood, candy, wizarding junk food, cats, and so much more.

For hours the two talked and the train kept moving.

Now, sometime during the beginning of the ride, a red head girl by the name of Ginny had appeared, and Luna had introduced her as a Gryffindor second year. Ginny had stayed for maybe the first half hour of the trip, explaining that her 'jerk brother and his friends' had kicked her out of their cabin.

She didn't stay longer then that though, due to the social steamrolling that was a Luna/Doctor conversation.

"You guys are weird." She had said in a way that was more exasperated than mean. Then she had left, bidding the babbling weirdos goodbye and unwittingly spawning an entire conversation about social norms.

It was getting darker and colder when the rain picked up.

"So, I said to her that small dogs are actually quite intelligent as they can, more likely than not, hear the ghosts of-" Luna's story was interrupted by the loudness of the rain which pounded on the roof of their compartment, causing both her and the Doctor to stare up in alarm. They had just come out of a tunnel, so the sudden noise was more or less shocking.

"It's really storming out there." The Doctor observed.

"Yes," Luna confirmed. "You know, you will have to ride across the lake in this weather, first year tradition."

"Oh brilliant." The Doctor pouted, "Is it fun though, going across the lake?"

"Oh, I thought so, there are lots of creatures in the lake, like-" Just then the train began to slow considerably, like they were getting ready to stop. "Strange," Luna went on, interrupting herself. "I don't think we're there yet."

The Doctor glanced out the window, he didn't see the lights of another station or town nearby, just dark country side. He could feel the emotions of the rest of the people on the train, the most prominent of which being general confusion. The two shared a glance before they both peered out the window, trying to look past the glare of the lanterns to see what was going on.

The Doctor could make out distant figures almost floating towards the train. From his spot inside the warmly lit express, he felt somewhat cold.

Then, the lights went out. The train screamed to a halt. Distant thumps of heavy chests hitting the walls of various compartments and flustered squawks of owls and whimpers of rats and cats gave an auditory damage report. The Doctor had to steel himself to keep from flying off his chair.

"Something's coming." Luna's bell-like voice chimed from the now pitch darkness.

But the Doctor couldn't respond. That cold feeling was closer, stronger than before. He couldn't hear or see the things boarding the train, but he felt them. The air was icy, he could feel the emotions of the others on the train take over. And suddenly, he was lost in second hand grief, sadness, pain, and hopelessness. It gripped his hearts like nothing had before.

"Lumos" The word was whispered and clear.

Through the muck of cold and dark the Doctor turned his head to see Luna. She had light, pale ghostly low light that only barely lit her features. Her expression was troubled and sad, but calm and serene as ever, she was smiling, if only slightly. In the wand light, her pale eyes and hair seemed to glow. "Doctor," She said, greeted only by tense silence from the time lord.

The cold became stronger. He dragged in a shaky breath, only to find that it was hard to do so.

Luna moved to the Doctor's side, "I know what this is." Her words helped to fill the hopeless vacuum that the dark now presented. "They're called dementors. They are cold creatures, very much like fire, but instead of consuming the dark and setting it aflame, they take the flames and cast all that was ever warm into into the dark. They eat happiness, and they are never full. It's quite a sad thing, really."

The Doctor just listened to the specter-like girl. The coldness was painful now.

Luna wrapped her hands around his, setting her wand aside. He clasped his fingers around hers. She was alive. She was bright. She was calm. But, he noted also, that behind that, she was just as scared as him. She offered him comfort though. He took a breath, it was easier to do now. Despite the gripping cold, he had to do his best to return the favor.

The two hugged then, squeezing their eyes shut. It was the hug of two scarred kids with nothing but each other to offer light. The compartment door slid open. Neither looked at the creature that entered with a cloak darker than the blackest of nights. Neither of them saw the gruesome corpse-like hand that reached for the pair, illuminated by the dull glow of a tilted wand. But, they both flinched when the memories attacked.

The Doctor saw too many dark things to speak of, and too many unspeakable things to count. His mind flashed with the memories of friends dying, leaving, saying goodbye. He saw old war zones, whole planets burning, the screaming and crying of innocents caught in the cross hair of battle. It was too much to handle. He felt himself black out right as a distant voice from someplace else on the train yelled 'Expecto Patronum!'

Those words expelled the darkness. But the Doctor was already lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so, so sorry for the ending. I'll have the next chapter posted sometime this week (hopefully).


	7. Waking Up

"Mister Smith, can you hear me?" A voice asked from beyond the dark swirl of cold that was the Doctor's mind. The sound made the Doctor cringe, as the voice wasn't by any means soft, and he had a blinding headache which made any sound at all amount to torture. "Come on wake up," The voice urged, making the Doctor stir. The Doctor didn't open his eyes right away, he simply listened and felt. He seemed to be laying out on a booth of some kind, on a train, which was chugging along down a track. Soft light behind his eyelids told him the setting was bright and warm, perhaps lit by lanterns? Outside the train, it was raining. There were two people near him, one of whom sat quietly across from him, the other who was standing above him. A strong smell of chocolate hung in the air.

The Doctor opened his eyes slowly, finding that his assessment of his surroundings were precise. However, he didn't really know what was going on, nor did he want to know, not with his head hurting this bad, and not with his current emotions. His hearts hurt, he felt sad, empty, tired, and maybe a bit angry. He felt like crying, but he didn't, he just stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the pain in his hearts and his head, content to be numb to the world around him. "Oh, good," An exasperated voice said, "Come on then, sit up lad." The Doctor was helped to a sitting position by an unknown presence, "Are you alright?" The voice inquired.

The Doctor didn't answer, he looked around the compartment. The person sitting across from him was a girl, rather young, she held a chocolate bar in her hand and had wrapped herself in a long cloak as if it were a blanket. The name 'Luna' came to mind. She was studying the Doctor with her pale eyes. Unspeaking. She didn't look unhappy, in fact she was offering the time lord a small smile, communicating that everything was going to be fine. The Doctor felt like he was lying as he gave a small smile back.

"Mister Smith," The voice said again, not really gaining the Doctor's attention "Are you alright?"

The Doctor realized the voice, a man, was speaking to him, he turned his head to the figure standing at his right. The man was a weary looking, he had sad puppy dog eyes, and an aged, face, which looked quite concerning on him, as the man was still fairly young.

"Ya," The Doctor answered, resting his eyes for a second to fend off the pain in his pounding skull. "I'm always alright." He muttered, reciting his favorite lie. He was shivering slightly now. A small part of his mind wondered why he felt so bad, so cold, and he found himself trying to remember what had happened, only to find his mind assaulted by his worst memories. He drew his legs up to his chest, and took a deep breath. "Fine, fine," He muttered as a thousand years of sorrow played through his head.

The man snapped his fingers in front of the Doctor's face, and the Doctor's eyes fluttered open, "You had quite a violent reaction to the dementors," The man said bluntly. Then it came back to the Doctor, Luna's clear bell voice; "I know what this is. They're called dementors. They are cold creatures, very much like fire, but instead of consuming the dark and setting it aflame, they take the flames and cast all that was ever warm into into the dark. They eat happiness, and they are never full. It's quite a sad thing, really." The last week of the Doctor's life hit him like a tidal wave, and he gritted his teeth to keep from screaming out. Again his eyes shut, this time scrunching tightly as if the action would defend the Doctor. The shivering worsened, he really just wanted to have a nap. And his head still hurt, signaling that his mental shields weren't very well-off. But he made the effort to open his eyes when the man spoke again.

"My name is Professor Lupin," the man said, "Do you know where you are?"

The Doctor took a breath, and tried to regain some control of the situation, "Yes, I do. On the train, to Hogwarts." He responded, but his voice sounded strained, even to him.

Lupin nodded, "Right, good." He reached for something in his cloak pocket, "here, take this. It will help."

Lupin handed the Doctor a large bar of chocolate, and the Doctor sniffed at it before deeming it safe to eat, and taking a bite.

The chocolate did help, surprisingly. It dispelled quite a bit of the cold, it cleared some of the muddled dread and sadness that sat in the Doctor's now messy head. He took another bite before thanking the man.

"No need to thank me." Lupin assured, "But I do have some bad news, you see, attacks from dementors are a serious business, and it is my belief that anyone who has had a direct encounter with one shouldn't be riding a boat across a lake during a rain storm."

The man studied the Doctor's expression, looking for disappointment, but honestly the Doctor very much agreed. He could take a boat ride some other time, but not tonight. Unless the boats had roofs attached, they'd be half submerged in rain water anyway. "I can deal with that." The Doctor responded.

"Good. Instead you'll ride with the teachers to the school," Lupin went on, "you'll be sent straight to the hospital wing after. If you're healthy enough, you can go to the sorting ceremony, but I warn you, the nurse will most likely make you stay overnight.

The Doctor frowned at that last part, or maybe at the whole thing, he didn't like much being told what to do, and he really hated medical wings. "Oh, I really don't think that's necessary, I've been through worse." He assured half-heatedly, his teeth clattering slightly with his chill.

Perhaps this wasn't the best choice of words, Lupin raised his eyebrow, his dire expression deepened, "I'll be back when the train stops, I'm going to send an owl to the headmaster. Don't leave this cabin, the train will arrive at the station in five minutes of so."

Lupin left without another word or room for protest, and the Doctor's frowned deepened into a defiant look of childish annoyance, but he was too tired to do anything about it. Instead he looked to Luna, concerned for her well-being.

"Are you alright?" He asked her.

Luna smiled and nibbled on her own chocolate before speaking, "Far better than you, I'd imagine. The dementor wasn't after me."

The Doctor nodded, than frowned, "Does this happen often?" He inquired, "They just let those things on the train?"

Luna hummed, "I don't suspect it was intentional" She said, "the dementors are out looking for Sirius Black. They're Azkaban guards, but they're not very regulated by the ministry. They tend to do as they please, and no one confronts them due to fear."

The Doctor pursed his lips, why had they come after him? He wasn't Sirius Black, not that he knew of anyway. He shook his head, "If they're looking for Black, why are they searching a train full of school kids?"

"I suppose they got a tip," Luna said, "Or perhaps a student may have had a link with Sirius."

The Doctor nodded, the explanation seemed likely, but there had to be more too it. He'd have to investigate the Sirius Black case then, another item on his growing list of mysteries. His head began to hurt more, and he frowned, taking another bite of chocolate "Hmm, interesting," He muttered, then he asked; "How long was I out, by the way? Was I the only one targeted?"

Luna thought for a second, "15 minutes." She responded," They went after Harry too, or that's what I heard."

Her response perplexed the Doctor, "Your Monster Book of Monster's text?" He asked

Luna giggled, "No, his namesake. Harry Potter."

Suddenly the Doctor's head pounded even more.

'Harry James Potter, related to at least 8 fixed points, h-'

The Doctor flinched and held his head, putting all of his energy into dispelling the absolute bombardment of knowledge. He groaned slightly, leaning on the wall, his shivering becoming violent, he really wanted to go to bed.

Luna was by him in a second, offering a hug, which the Doctor accepted.

"Sorry," The Doctor mumbled, now wrapped in the girl's arms, his eyes closed once more.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Luna reassured. "Everybody needs a hug sometimes." There was a moment of quiet, the rain on the window seemed to get louder, then Luna said, "Doctor, you have a lot of secrets." It wasn't a question, or a method of prying, just a statement.

The Doctor chuckled lightly, "That's an understatement." He said, "Maybe I'll tell you them sometime."

"I wouldn't mind that." Luna replied. For the short remainder of the trip, both children sat there, listening to the rain.

Soon the train stopped and Lupin returned, telling Luna to follow the wave of second-year students to the carriages. She bid adieu with a sort of cryptic message that confused both Lupin and the Doctor; "I'll be seeing you Doctor!" She said, "Say hello to the thersals for me! I think you'll like them."

The Doctor, smiled, said goodbye, gathered his still feather-light luggage, then followed Lupin out of the train and into the mass of students outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter is out of the way! Woo hoo! I know it's been a long time, but writers block whacked me over the head with this one, and on top of that school is hectic, and I'm hardly getting by with the end-of-year finals. The next chapter is about half-way typed, and I WILL get it up before the end of the month. Thank you everyone who has stuck with me on this, I am so so sorry for the wait. You guys rock. Love you all!


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